


The Nightmare

by interstellarstorms



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comforting Jack Kline, Crying, Crying Sam Winchester, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Really Put This Man Through Too Much, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 08:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarstorms/pseuds/interstellarstorms
Summary: Sam has a nightmare and Jack gets concerned





	The Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed! I highly apologize. I was impatient. I got excited. Fight me.

A strange sound echoed through the hall and captured Jack’s attention. He lifted his head, weighted down heavily with sleep. He couldn’t distinguish just what it was, but he recognized the deep tone and timbre of Sam’s voice. But there was something wrong about it, too—something Jack had never heard before. It was low and sent a feeling that something was off down Jack’s spine. 

_Sam must be in danger,_ Jack thought. It was just so unfamiliar and distraught. With trepidation, he pulled aside the covers and felt the cold floor touch the bottom of his bare feet. Hesitantly, he tiptoed out the door left ajar of his darkened room into the golden-lit hall. Sam always left a light on in the hall. Jack didn’t know why. 

Slowly, he edged towards Sam’s door and the sound grew. It was still muffled, and to Jack’s discomfort, the door to Sam’s room was shut. This was unusual, and set Jack even further on edge. 

It was then that another familiar voice breached through the otherwise silence of the bunker. It was gravely yet set Jack further at ease. _If Castiel is here, then Sam can’t be in too much danger._

Jack’s alleviated concern was short lived as he neared the door enough to distinguish what the voices were saying…or rather, what the voices were doing. Because Sam’s voice—it was shaking. And the low distraught sounds that Jack had heard from his room were sobs. 

The door creaked open. Castiel stood at the precipice of the room with a tired look in his blue eyes. And on the bed sat Sam, long hair hanging in front of his eyes as he hung his head and his body trembled. 

Jack had never seen one of his fathers cry. Not even at Castiel’s funeral. It had gotten pretty close at times, but it never reached full-out weeping. It brought tears to Jack’s eyes as well. He watched as Sam tensed, but did not look up, instead turning his face away from the boy. He took a deep breath.

“Jack. You should go back to bed. It’s three in the morning.” Castiel spoke gently, but firmly.

“No, Cas, it’s fine. Jack,” Sam said unsteadily. A drop fell from his angular nose onto the comforter and he curled up further. “What are you doing up?”

“I heard something from my bed and I was worried,” Jack said hesitantly. He was supposed to be the one who cried. The one who was wrapped underneath Sam’s arm. And Sam was supposed to be the the shoulder to cry on, the one who was there to wipe Jack’s tears away. That was how it always had been. Here, it seemed that the roles had been reversed when Jack wasn’t looking and he didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I never expected to wake you up. And I didn’t mean to worry you.” Sam’s voice kept sticking on the words, like he was choking back the worst of his emotion. He already was looking a little steadier. 

“It’s okay, Sam.” Jack said, and then became pensive. What could he possibly say? What could he even do to help? Sam was the one who knew how to help. Jack had good instincts, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. So he tried his best at comforting the tall man sitting on the bed. “What happened?”

“Don’t worry about me. It’s nothing dangerous, I’m sorry if I worried you. Just a nightmare.” Sam tried his best and delivered a pretty convincing smile. Jack might have thought he imagined the sounds and the tear if it weren’t for the glassy shine to Sam’s eyes.

“Oh!” Jack exclaimed, some of the discomfort of the situation alleviated. “I’ve had one of those once. About in that Church when Lucifer--Sam?”

“Jack.” Cas said warningly. Sam had drawn back involuntarily at the name. It looked as if, already so close to the edge of breaking his composure again, Sam was being drawn back there. But he waved a hand at Cas in a gesture to let it go, he could handle it.

“J-jack...um...can we wait until morning to discuss that...to discuss _him_? Just for tonight. I’m so sorry.” 

“Is that what you dream of too? Is that why you’re crying?” The tall man’s posture tensed. All of a sudden, he remained very still.

At this time, Cas spoke up once again, except to Jack’s surprise, his other father was not trying to tell Jack to leave. Instead, his words were the opposite: “Sam, I think you should talk to Jack alone. Call me if you need me again.” And he left the room just like that.

Returning to the present, Sam replied to Jack’s question. “Yeah. Yeah it is,” Sam’s voice conveyed a hint of what Jack thought he recognized as embarrassment. Jack didn’t know why Sam would be embarrassed, but he had a suspicion.

“Sam, why did you get all tense? Am I embarrassing you by coming here?”

“No, Jack, of course not.” In that moment, it was Jack’s dad speaking to him again, reassuring and kind. It made Jack feel warm inside. “It’s just...you weren’t supposed to see me like this. Not even Dean is supposed to see me like this. Cas just comes sometimes to check on me because in a way he’s gone through the same thing as I have. I wouldn’t want to upset you by you having to see this. Ever.”

“You know, I cry sometimes too, and you are always there to help me feel better. You’re a really good father.” Jack mused.

“Thank you, Jack.” The corners at the sides of Sam’s mouth raised just a little.

“You know, I guess it’s okay that you’re here, Jack. You’re a tough kid. Smart. And now that you’re here, I think that tonight should be a lesson to you. But first I need you to answer a question: do you still believe I’m strong?”

“Of course,” Jack said, not even having to think about it.

“Don’t be afraid to express what you’re feeling, Jack. You can be strong and vulnerable sometimes. It doesn’t make any less of you.” He then took a breath, and continued. “I normally dream of Lucifer every night, but after what I’ve seen you go through, I dreamt of something much worse. I dreamt that we--that I--lost you. And that’s why I was crying. Because I can’t lose my only son.”

And with that, Jack reached out towards Sam and wrapped him in his arms. And maybe Sam broke down a little over that, too, based on the hot drops that fell on Jack’s white T-shirt, but neither of then cared. But neither of them let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I haven't been posting. My mental health has been hell and my eating disorder has been acting up, so now I'm in residential. Finally getting okay enough again to write. I also plan on continuing Under Pressure again! FINALLY!


End file.
